Sand In My Shorts
by Kit Spooner
Summary: A possible series of oneshots centered around the kids from Suna. First up: ShikaTem, Gaara, Kankurou, family traditions.


**Title:** "Brother of the Bride"  
**Author:** Kit Spooner  
**Series: **Naruto  
**Ratine: **PG-13/T  
**Warnings:** Smattering of vulgarity  
**Pairings: **Temari x Shikamaru  
**Disclaimer:** Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, Shounen Jump, Studio Pierrot, TV Tokyo, Viz Video/Manga, and probably some other people I don't know. Neither the characters nor the situations were created by me. Please do not repost or archive without permission. I like feedback. And monkeys.  
**Notes:** For now, this is just a quick one-shot, though I may add on more stories about the Sand Sibs at some point in the future. This can also fit into the wacky, alterniverse portrayed in my triumphant Ino/Lee story, "Laid." I make no apologies. (Just imagine that while this little fiasco is taking place, Ino and Lee are in the process of breaking yet another bedframe.)

The next tremor shook the entire building. Shikamaru paused in the middle of his eighteenth circuit about the room to watch dust and bits of paint sift down from the ceiling. "You're absolutely sure we shouldn't go in there?" he asked warily.

Kankurou yawned and opened his eyes just enough to roll them at Shikamaru. "Nah, they'll be fine." He was comfortably slumped next to a window. Shikamaru suspected that this was to minimize possible damage to the puppet-master, should the ceiling finally come down.

Temari's howls of outrage echoed through the closed door once again and Shikamaru winced in sympathy. He knew how powerful her voice was when she was in one of her _moods_. "Not sure who to be more worried about here," he muttered.

"Eh?"

"Well, Temari can shatter glass at fifty paces when she's in this kind of mood," Shikamaru noted. "On the other hand, it's your psychotic little freak of a brother she's shrieking at, so I guess I should be a bit concerned about the possibility of him losing it and smearing her across the desert."

Kankurou snickered quietly. "He won't do anything that might actually hurt her," he assured the man who was attempting, in the mildest, most lethargic way possible, to marry his sister. "This is just how they fight."

There was a crash as something breakable impacted against the closed door.

"Sometimes they throw stuff," Kankurou added, after the fact.

"They've been at it for nearly an hour," Shikamaru groused. "I'm not sure Temari's worth getting my eyeballs eaten by Gaara if he objects this strenuously . . ."

"Eh, don't worry about him," Kankurou said. "They're just playing."

"What the hell?"

"You know our family's always been a bit . . . unique, right?" Kankurou finally sat up and actually looked at Shikamaru.

"_Unique_ is not the word I would usually apply to you people, but I suppose it works," Shikamaru admitted.

"So since our Dad pretty much screwed over our childhoods on an assortment of psychological levels, we don't really bother with conventional family behavior."

"You're just as crazy as your brother," Shikamaru accused in a monotone. "Throwing furniture during playtime is so far beyond 'conventional' that my mind boggles at the mere comparison . . ."

"Ha! You should hear about the times when Temari and I fight," Kankurou replied airily.

"Should I really?" Shikamaru didn't sound enthused.

"She attacks my clothes and I attack her shoes," Kankurou continued, now ignoring Shikamaru. "She'll cut up my brand new designer jeans, then I'll set her favorite platform sandals on fire in retaliation. It's a war of attrition that usually ends in sullen apologies and a shopping spree."

Now Shikamaru looked vaguely horrified. "Does this mean she's going to destroy the house when _we_ fight?"

"Possibly."

"I might need to rethink this whole thing," Shikamaru mumbled.

Sand began to sift out from under the door.

"Well, think fast, lover-boy," Kankurou said with a smirk.

Gaara of the Sand burst through the doorway in all his diminutive glory, green eyes alight with some intense emotion that likely fell somewhere between infuriated and homicidal. "You!" he intoned, as he bore down on Shikamaru.

Shikamaru nearly wet himself.

"You are clearly insane for wanting to marry my screaming, rabid, bitch of a sister," Gaara said plainly. "But if you want the harpy, you can have her."

Temari threw another vase at Gaara only to have it intercepted by a wall of sand. "I hate you so much," she snarled, baring her teeth.

"Holy crap," Shikamaru said in a voice that didn't wobble so much as stagger drunkenly off into an alley to die.

"And how dare you speak to my fiancé like that, you psychotic jackass?" Temari snapped, still trying to clock her brother in the face with crockery of some sort. "You'll scare him off!"

Gaara ignored her and with a stately nod of his head at Shikamaru, glided off down the hallway like some sort of mad Roman emperor.

"Don't you run away, Gaara!" Temari demanded, turning to chase him. "You're not allowed to leave until you apologize to my Shikamaru, you insufferable little shit!"

Kankurou laughed and elbowed Shikamaru in what he probably thought was a friendly manner. "Troublesome enough for you?"

Shikamaru clutched his broken ribs and considered the merits of fainting on the spot.


End file.
